One-day trip to Mobile Bay
by NoraVonGikkingen
Summary: In a few words, Scout, Jem and Calpurnia try to get Atticus out of the dark after Tom's death. / Settled at the end of the novel, a few days after Tom's death and a few days before school starts for Jem and Scout. 2 chapters/Scout's POV. First fanfic on TKAM, reviews would be highly appreciated, thanks :3


**Hey! This is my first fanfiction on To Kill a Mockingbird, I've just finished it for the second time and I really enjoyed it (even if it's school work, I found it amazing). Don't hesitate to leave reviews if you catch some mistakes, I'm French (in an OIB section, which means that we study the same books as normal 9th or 10th grade students) so there can be plenty of them! I think this fanfic will take 2 chapters, here is the first one!**

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We were hardly getting out of the car when Jem broke through the door and gamboled like a vivid hart towards the sea. I was tempted to do the same but, as Atticus was already shouting at him to step back and wait for us, I did not venture farther than two meters away from him. In these days I had difficulty not only disobeying our father's will, but mostly keeping away from him for too long; since he'd lost the trial and learnt about Tom's death, he was moody, and everything in the house apart from Aunt Alexandra's Missionary Circle had fallen quite silent. I was troubled as well, trying to get some distraction from the ladies till the return of Atticus in the afternoon, and when I had asked him if it was either the court case or Tom's passing that got him into such tormenting feelings, I hadn't received everything but the word 'both' from his mouth as I'd leaned closer to him on the rocking chair, watching him resume his reading of the Tribune where he had left it a few moments before. When Jem and I weren't around trying to bring life back into him, I feared that he should die from the hidden grief that was growing in his mind. I thus kept from absenting myself too often at the fall of day, to the result that Jem and I's reading and plays on the back porch were reduced, yet I preferred that situation to the haunting thought of Atticus left alone without any soul to guard his mournful afternoons.

As school was starting in a very few days, and because we thought Atticus could benefit from it while we would simply enjoy the journey, we had told him to get a day off work and take the Finch family to the sea, which wasn't that far from Maycomb, all things considered; he had agreed, and asked Cal if she'd like to go with us. She had told him to question Aunt Alexandra first and, as the latter didn't sound enthusiastic wasting time in a trip to Mobile Bay for managing the Missionary Club, Calpurnia had decided she would go with us. I wasn't an expert on automobiles at that time, and I'm still not today, but this little jump through Alabama seemed to cost a lot to Atticus on gas. On a straight line, Mobile Bay was distant from approximately sixty miles, which wasn't that detached but still a bit far, and the journey was long as well. Jem and I had been fussing for at least three hours in the morning on the back seat while Atticus and Cal had been leading the way, our cook – whom I now regarded as my own mother – giving geographical instructions to him through an old map of South Alabama which, I think, had belonged to Aunt Alexandra in her early married life. I couldn't help but notice the smile on Atticus's face every time Cal had provided information on the next lane to take, or the ensuing road to follow – Cal's voice was low and deep, but soft, and if it brought my father back again, I would admire Calpurnia for the rest of my life. I had always thought Cal was a member of the family, but when I had seen Atticus grin like a child at her, I had wondered if she wasn't somehow emmore/em. Eventually arriving at Mobile, our driver had stopped the car when we had reached the shore and, casting a long glance at her, gotten out.

We had lunch on the nearest beach and Jem and I went exploring. I felt jealous, for Atticus didn't seem to care much about us, only trying not to lose us. Cal and him were talking about Helen Robinson and how she was, about Aunt Alexandra or Miss Maudie, even about the weather and how Mobile Bay looked 'spectacular', but never directly about Tom and the trial and all that. I remembered how Atticus felt awkward for 'both' of them, because they were linked indeed, but I had thought that he would've spoken his mind more before Cal, who knew his family well; instead, he went on deviating on some superficial subject that would keep him away from the remorse of not having acquitted Tom Robinson, and having indirectly taken him to his death. Calpurnia was not gullible, and tried (I knew her ways) to introduce the subject twice while we were playing in the sand – me covertly listening - but he always found a way to escape her inquiry. Twice we saw him turn pale on the blue-lined picnic sheet on which they were resting; twice he closed his mind to her, his eyes explicitly telling her that something was wrong; yet, after a third experiment, and when she saw me innocently scrutinizing behind their backs, she seemed not to want to embarrass him and uncover his anguish with two young spies investigating – and such spies! Calpurnia was definitely not credulous in anyone, Jem and Scout Finch included, even as the unnoticeable agents we were.

Atticus and Cal went on to an almost mute talk. They pronounced some pathetic sentences without an answer, staring stonily at each other while we were galloping around our powder creations and admiring them; if Jem and I knew how to build a snowman, we could do it with sand as well. I had decided to roll up my overalls around my thighs and, asking permission to Atticus, had scudded towards the still waters of Mobile Bay to collect muddy sand for our figurines' bodies. He and Cal weren't talking at the time, just thinking by themselves, sometimes darting uncomfortable glances at each other and taking bits of fresh fruit out of the food basket. When I had brought enough, Jem and I had started modeling the neighborhood again. My eyes were busy detailing Miss Maudie's features when I caught some interesting dialogue between Cal and our father:

'You know, we could have a talk if you like' Calpurnia said, uncrossing her legs and getting them to her chin so she could rest her head upon her knees. She was gazing at him with concern. Jem, too, had stopped sculpting, and we both spied again.

'I – I don't think it could fix it' Atticus said. 'These two tried to get some feelings spoken from my mouth before, and it didn't work either. I reckon words won't do this time, I-'

' _Atticus_ ' Cal murmured.

We were astounded. In our whole lifetime – which was somewhat short, but it was still made of lots of days – we hadn't heard Calpurnia give another name to our father but a conventional 'Mr Finch'. Jem was amazed, but didn't utter a word; I personally thought that Atticus wouldn't object it, for after all, Cal had been there since we were little and he had never mumbled at anything she had said or done. We all considered her as a part of our close everyday life, as a real member of the Finch family. Atticus didn't seem troubled at all; he was listening to her answer.

'Don't struggle with a clumsy explanation.' She spoke. 'If you don't want to discuss it, I won't try to get these emotions from you. I was just trying to figure out what was happening.'

Atticus gazed at her and, feverishly folding his arms around his waist, responded:

'I mean – perhaps I'll feel better when we get back to Maycomb, and we'll be able to chat, but please, Cal, don't fall into this. You could get really miserable after I've told you, and this is why I haven't allowed myself to speak to anyone, to you three above all; to Scout and Jem because they're too young, and to you because you knew his family very closely and you may not have come to terms with the event yet, considering Helen's state and-'

'I'm not afraid, really, Atticus.'

She had said it twice! Jem and I didn't even look at each other, mesmerized by their conversation. I was supposedly carrying out the finishing touches to Miss Maudie's shape, but it seemed as if almost all my senses were monopolized by my father's further answer to Calpurnia's stichomythia. For a few seconds, I had frozen. But it was Cal who took the following sentence:

'You perfectly know that I'm able to swallow Tom's death. Being close to Helen doesn't mean that I let her depressive feelings influence my own thoughts. What you are doing is only trying to hide your grief until it devours you whole and, believe me, you'd better not go on letting it blaze your soul like this…'

Atticus didn't say a word after her last, but we were still listening. Then Cal told us to put our shoes on because we were leaving the place.

'I don't want to' Jem said. 'We've barely sat there for an hour and a half!'

'That doesn't mean that we're getting home, son' Atticus said. 'We can have a walk through Mobile and Calpurnia and I will look for ice-creams.'

We were revived and curious, for we knew exactly what this meant: Cal would take the occasion to talk to Atticus again.


End file.
